Guilty
by secretwriter4
Summary: A month after the war, Hank Miller's body is found. Nora's mom is heartbroken, and she is sure it's only a matter of time before everyone discovers she killed him and Patch was involved with the cover up. With Vee now in England and her fallen angel by her side, will Nora be found guilty of murder or will she walk free?
1. Chapter 1

War was over. It's been just over a month since everything had happened. I was still living with my mom, but I saw Patch on a regular basis and managed to convince my mom to allow me to spend weekends at his place. He was still living in the townhouse. We'd both came to love it here, and the view in Winter was mesmerising. It was currently Winter break, Christmas was coming around, and I'd spent the last hour an hour channel surfing on the couch waiting for Patch to come home from "taking care of business", or in my translation getting himself out of trouble. After not finding anything to watch I settled on the news, occasionally it was nice to see what was going on elsewhere in the world. Although I'm not sure this was. A body had been found washed ashore just outside of Delphic Beach. It appeared to be a man, middle aged with a bullet wound, which they'd presumed was his cause of death. Cold blooded murder. Whoever had shot him had intentionally meant to kill him. That's what they said. I speed-dialled Patch's cell.

"Angel?" He answered after the second ring. "What's up?" He asked after I failed to give him a reply.

"A body's been found. Off the coast of Delphic. Middle-aged man. They're waiting for someone to come forward and identify the body." I managed to get out.

"Angel? Listen to me. Everything's going to be okay. It might not even be what you think it is," but we both knew he was wrong. "I'm on my way home now, I'll be 10 minutes. Don't move and don't answer the door to anyone okay?"

"Okay."

"One last thing. Stay safe and I love you."

"That was two things," I reminded him and I could imagine him smiling, despite the circumstances. We had both believed this was over. But even from his grave, Hank Miller knew just how to change things and make people suffer. Like I didn't feel guilty enough for ending his life. I didn't want to, and I hadn't meant to, but he had pushed me into a dark place and I couldn't imagine losing Patch. I didn't intend on losing him now either, we had both come too far to let this destroy the relationship we'd managed to build over the last few weeks. "I love you more." I whispered into the phone.

"Impossible. Home in 10." And with that the phone clicked shut.

As promised, 10 minutes later Patch had entered the townhouse and crossed through the kitchen into the living room to find me immediately. I was still sat on the couch with the phone in my hand since we had spoken a short while ago. I didn't realise how tightly I had gripped my phone until Patch gently tried to prise it from my hands. He succeeded, and pulled me onto his lap. I buried my head in his shoulder and I couldn't hold it any longer. I began trembling and a stray tear left my eye and landed on his shoulder. He carefully stroked under my eye to wipe them away and kissed my forehead. I straddled his lap and he rested his forehead against mine and rubbed soothing circles on my lower back, under a jumper of his I had recently stolen. We stayed like that for a while, comfortable enough as we were. We didn't feel the need to ruin the peaceful silence like some couples with pointless chatter. The breaking news was what pulled us apart. The body had been identified. It was a successful businessman, father and loyal husband named Hank Miller from Coldwater, Maine. The family had been informed. They urged witnesses to come forward with any information to help them catch the killer or at least find the weapon that was used. Forensics had determined the body to be at least 6 weeks deceased, and the police were checking through all CCTV from around that time in the hope of catching anything. I began to shake again and Patch's eyes became stormy. My cell ringing pulled me back to reality. My mom. _My mom._ Shit! _My mom_. She was Hank's girlfriend just before he died, and my biological father. She must have seen the news. Her heart must be breaking.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Nora. Oh Nora. I'm so sorry. It's Hank, he's been found dead. I'm so sorry. I know you never had much of a good relationship with him, but he was a part of your life before his death." I could hear her softly crying. She was trying to stay strong for me, she shouldn't have to be staying strong at all. It was all my fault.

_No it's not your fault, Angel._ Patch spoke to my mind. Either I was _that_ easy to read, or he had read my thoughts. I sincerely prayed it was the latter. He chuckled softly.

_Damn you Patch._ I replied. "Mom?" I spoke into the phone. "Me and Patch just saw the news now. I'm sorry mom. Are you okay? I'm coming home now. I'll be half an hour."

"Okay darling," she managed to reply. I shut the phone and jumped up immediately, and into Patch's jeep. I shut the door but he pulled it back open again and budged me over into the passenger seat. Something about not being in a fit state to drive or something, I wasn't really listening. When we reached the farmhouse, my mom was sat at the kitchen table crying softly, unaware that we had entered. I went and sat beside her and tapped her shoulder. She pulled me into a hug. I tried to sooth her, told her everything would be okay. She broke out in heartbreaking sobs. She loved him. She hadn't cried like this since my real dad died. I began to softly cry myself, unable to cope with knowing I had caused this. At some point we ended up in her room sat on her bed, Patch stood in the doorway awkwardly, not sure of what to do. His relationship with my mother was more of an easy alliance, for my sake. They were on two separate sides of a never ending war, and both loved me too much to harm the other. Apparently my mother thought badmouthing Patch on a regular basis was a fair substitute. It had wound me up the one time and I ranted to Patch, stating it must be the menopause, although I doubted it was true. He laughed, finding it hilarious. Me on the other hand, not so much. After a while, she had fallen asleep in my arms and he came over to help me put her into bed. We silently left the room and shut the door too before padding across the hall to my own room. I couldn't leave her like this. I left my own door slightly open, so if she cried or had a nightmare I'd be able to hear and help her. Climbing into bed, Patch pulled me into him and I lay my head on his chest before drifting off into a dreamless slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke the next morning to a brisk knock on the door. _Knock. Knock. Knock. _I felt exhausted and struggled to remember the events of last night, such as why I was at home instead of at Patch's. I shifted more comfortably, and felt the cold bed beside me. I sat up higher and the memories flooded back. Hank Miller's body was found. Who I shot, and in the process broke my mother's heart and risked being caught out, and consequently my relationship with Patch, and most certainly my mother. _Knock. Knock. _Confused as to who would be at the door at 7:30 in the morning, knocking as if it was an emergency, I quickly shuffled out of bed and down the hall. Peaking in my mom's room, I saw she was still asleep, so I shut the door all the way and jogged down the stairs to deal with whoever was at the door. What I saw through the spyhole shocked me and I went into panic mode. Two police offers with stern looking faces. Why would they be here? They informed my mother yesterday. Maybe they know it was me. They've come for me. How could I face my mom after what I did? Breathe Nora. I was well aware they heard me jogging down the stairs, so I took a deep breath and called, "I'm coming!" Slightly cheery, as I saw an officer go to raise his hand again. "Just looking for the key." I began shifting things around the small table by the door to back up what I was saying and dangled the keys which made a noise as I unlocked it from the inside. I felt the cold, Winter morning air on my skin and pulled my arms around my torso for warm. Plastering a smile on my face, I greeted the two officers. "Hello, how may I help you?"

"Nora Grey?" The first officer asked me. He was a strict looking man, with grim set features. His stance practically screamed "don't mess with me". I nodded slightly, confusion written all over my face. "I'm Detective Watts, this is my colleague Officer Smith." He pointed to his colleague, a medium-heighted woman, in her twenties with her brown hair pulled back into a tight, low bun underneath her police hat. "May we come in? I have a few questions to ask you. I assume you are aware of the death of your biological father Mr Millar."

"Yes." I responded weakly. I cleared my throat. "You can come through to the kitchen. Could you try to keep the noise down please? My mother's still asleep and I don't want to wake her unless necessary."

"Of course. That's understandable, considering the circumstances." He gave me a knowing look, and I was 100% sure he was going to arrest me for murder right there on the doorstep. After a beat of silence and noticing I still hadn't moved out of the doorway, I mumbled a sorry and pulled it open farther and pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

"If you'd excuse me a moment, I'm going to grab a cardigan and turn of the heating." He nodded his permission, and I quickly ran up into my wardrobe and pulled out a navy cardigan and went back downstairs. As I got to the kitchen, I turned the dial for the heating and shut the door to. I didn't want my mom to wake up and walk downstairs to find her daughter being questioned over the murder of her boyfriend in the kitchen. "Can I get you something to drink? Tea, coffee..."

"We're fine." Detective Watts responded for both of them. He seemed strict, no nonsense, and hated that I was wasting valuable time. "Shall we get done to business?" I nodded and he began his enquiry, pen poised by his notepad to write down anything necessary and I took a sit opposite the two officers at the kitchen table. "I've being informed you're in an intimate relationship with Jev Cipriano." He stated rather than asked me. I still felt it necessary to comply with a yes. "Could you tell me of his whereabouts on the 17th October last month?"

"The 17th?" I enquired.

"The night of Mr Millar's murder," he said with a chilling tone.

"That was some time ago, I can't remember exactly." I knew perfectly well. He was with me, trying to cover up this mess I'd managed to land myself in, but I was unwilling to go into detail with that with the force. I knew confusion was written on my face, and I sincerely hoped Detective Watts felt it was due to me not actually knowing of Patch's whereabouts, rather than the fact I was confused as to why the police were after him and not me. After all, it wouldn't take them long to figure out I was there. He must have picked up on my lie, as the next words he spoke was "You're going to have to come down to the station." He knows. He knows I killed Hank. He's going to arrest me. Stay _calm_ Nora.

"Is that necessary?" I asked. "It's just I don't want to leave my mom, she was in a state last night." I felt physically sick that I used my mom as an excuse to get out of this, but it was my only option.

"I'm afraid so, Miss Grey. I need a formal statement. You're not placed under arrest, but if you don't comply, then I will have to." He replied bluntly and rather bored. It was clear this was something he said on a regular basis.

"Of course, let me just grab my coat." He nodded again, and moved out of the kitchen with me to stand by the front door, clearly not trusting my motives. I entered my room, changed out of my boy shorts into jeans, tugged on some trainers and my coat, and tugged my unruly curls into a ponytail. In under a minute I was back downstairs with the officers, when there was another knock on the door. Who could it possibly be know? The detective stepped aside, allowing me entry to open the door. I found Lynn Parnell occupying the doorstep.

"Hello, Nora. I saw the news last night about Hank. I came to offer my support. Anything you need, shopping, cleaning, shoulder to lean on.." She drifted off as she saw who was stood behind me.

"Thanks for stopping by Lynn. I was on my way to the station to help with their enquiry. Would you be able to keep an eye on my mom until I get back? She's still sleeping upstairs."

"Of course. You go." I smiled my thanks and stepped outside and into the Detective's car. It's a 20 minute drive from the farmhouse, in the middle of nowhere, to Coldwater's Police Station, but it seemed to drag on forever. We entered the station and I hung back as the Detective's spoke to the Officer on the desk, before they proceeded to call me into an interviewing room. A middle-aged woman with grey streaks in her hair was sat seated at the desk in the centre of the room, who I assumed was my acting adult as I was still a minor aged 17. I took my allocated seat next to her and Detective Watts started the tape recorded before turning to face me.

"I'm sure you know why we're here." He didn't pause to give me time to reply before we continued. "We know your boyfriend killed Hank Millar, and we know you were involved in withholding this important information from police knowledge. Where's he hiding?"


	3. Chapter 3

Detective Watts POV.

We had been called to the coast of Delphic after a man reported a body washed ashore. Forensics had been informed and told me there was a bullet wound to the chest which they were confident was the cause of death, who they later identified as Hank Millar. When we got back to the station, I spent the night looking over the cold evidence I had been given to crack an impossible case. He was an influential businessmen who didn't appear to have any known enemies, except for both Susanna Millar and Blythe Grey; on whom he had cheated, and strung along the whole way through his marriage, only just going public with their relationship a couple months before his death. A long way time to leave it, considering he fathered a 17 year-old love child with her. The more I mulled this over, the more I was convinced someone in the family had murdered him in cold blood. Potentially his daughter Nora Grey for misleading her the whole time and not playing an active role in her upbringing, although she was brought up by Harrison Grey whom was murdered over a year ago. Coincidence? Then there was his known daughter Marcie. Rumour has it she found out about the affair, and that Nora was her half-sister years ago, sparking a feud between herself and Nora, who in turn didn't know what had sparked the vendetta against her. As we had no idea where the actual murder had taken place, the Millar residence was searched and there was no form of weapon, or any sign a murder had taken place there. That left the Grey household. Analysing the bullet again, I noticed how there had only been three people connected with the same gun. One of whom was Jev Cipriano, also 17. I researched him more and came up with nothing. At 2 in the morning, my 16 year-old daughter walked into my office at work.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you at home? Someone's just been murdered, it's not safe."

"They were murdered weeks ago. I was out yesterday and it weren't safe then, what makes now so different. The situation's exactly the same, except we know about it now." Point. "Anyway, I couldn't sleep, thought you could use a sandwich as you're pulling a late one." She tossed it me and I thanked her. "Hey, you think Patch had something to do with the murder?" She was studying my screen. In normal circumstances, I would have turned the monitor off and told her to leave it alone, but after being unsuccessful in finding anything on him, she seemed my only hope in either cracking him for the murder, or eliminating him from my enquiries.

"What do you know about him?" She shrugged, picked up my sandwich and proceeded to take a bite out of it, sat in my chair with her feet propped up on my desk.

"Not much. He transferred to my school last year. He was the year above. Living mystery to everyone. He dated some chick called Nora for a couple months before summer and he had a fling with some trashy cheerleader. Marcie I think her name was. Anyway, that was just some summer fling which didn't last. Nora went missing that summer-if you remember. When she came back, her and Patch hooked back up. That's all that I know. Rumour has it though, his school file was completely clean. How would they have let him in with nothing, not even a vaccination or a past school on his record?"

"I don't know, but I plan on finding out. Go home, it's late." She nodded and left the office. Interesting. Looking over everything again, they all had a motive. But Jev-or Patch, stuck out like a sore thumb. He had previous, and had skilfully not been caught. There was nothing stopping him committing the perfect crime again. He was a gambler. He took risks. He may only be 17, but he was manipulative and capable of anything. His girlfriend had just found out her biological father had deceived her, by the sounds of it he loved her and would do anything for her, such as killing Hank. He also has connections with the murder weapon, which has yet to be found, but I have no doubt his prints will be all over it.

The next morning, I turned up at the Grey household to talk to Nora Grey about Jev, but there was something seriously off. She tried avoiding questions, unconsciously tugged her clothing tighter around her, and was unable to give Mr Cipriano an alibi. Not seeing any other option, I called her in for further questioning. She was key in finding Jev.


End file.
